Ornament
by Garasu
Summary: A short christmas one shot, that came, perhaps a bit too late. Loosely based on and inspired by a trio of story-songs.


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Neon Genesis Evangelion belongs to the usual people, namely Studio Gainax, Hideaki Anno, and ADV films. This fan work is not a profitable infringement but done in the interests of entertainment and fun.

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Ornament

Author: Garasu

The small apartment was a mess. Boxes lay strewn everywhere with their precious cargo leaking out of some of the older ones, cascading onto the floor, adding to the sense of disorganized chaos. Everywhere one looked, colors assaulted the eyes with bits of greens and reds peppered with various other colors of the rainbows. Yet, these boxes were not meant as a hindrance, and generally, stood for something great. For every single box contained Christmas decorations, the result of only a few years of collecting. Some of the older ones, donated from friends no longer interested in the monumental task of decorating every corner with something bright and cheerful, still others were lovingly wrapped and carefully packed against the rigors of storage.

It was over one of the latter boxes that a figure kneeled and carefully sifted through the items that were contained within the brown storage container. Within moments, the person found what she had been looking for, as there had not been many items stored in the breakable box, less chance for any of the items to end their life prematurely. Slowly and carefully, thin creamy white hands withdrew a tightly packed box filled with newspapers and styrofoam and set it aside.

The young woman did not open the box immediately, but instead chose to sit and contemplate what she knew was within that box. It was a gift, the first gift she had been given by him when they began sharing their lives together. It hadn't been that long, really, only a mere twelve months separating the time when he had given it to her to the present day. Still, the contents of that box already meant more to the young woman than any of the other hundreds of decorations that were now strewn about the room.

Reverently, as if somehow afraid the item would break and disappear in her very hands, the woman reached out and carefully unpacked the small item. When the box lay open and the packing held aside, delicate fingers reached inside and withdrew a small glass ornament. To this day, she still had yet to find out where or exactly how he had found this ornament, with it's carefully hand blown glass globe attached to a single piece of gold string that was looped for easy hanging. Still, it wasn't the globe that attracted the young woman's attention to the ornament itself, but rather the item that hung from the middle on a piece of string that was so thin that it seemed invisible to all but the most patient eye. There, suspended exactly in the center of the globe was a single, perfectly faceted crystal.

The young woman smiled at the memory of her first sighting of this ornament. It had been day when he had given it to her, and the light that flooded in from the window had refracted within the crystal and made it shine like a brilliant star. The crystal was so perfectly faceted, in fact, that the small object seemed to glow, even in a seemingly dark room, as if it possessed an inner light of its own.

The light of his love for her, he had said as he had laid it in her hands. He had wanted it to be their first and most treasured ornament. Something they could both look back on and remember that even after the months of hell they had both gone through it was worth it in the end, as long as they were together. He was a sappy lovesick boy like that.

A small drop of liquid splashed onto the globe and the young woman blinked in surprise. She watched the tear slide down the smooth surface with an apparent fascination. Then watched again as another joined it. Sappy idiot or not, she would never again hear his words or feel his touch, or so her mind told her. More tears joined their brethren soon after, but the young woman had already wisely placed the ornament back into its protective casing. She didn't want to risk breaking the item in a moment of weakness, she would truly be miserable if that were to happen. Desperately, the thin young woman tried not to regard this ornament as the only thing she had left of a certain person, a person that up until recently was the bane of her existence. That was, until she had learned to look within her heart and truly accept the feelings that had resided there for God knew how long.

A sudden knock from the front door warned the young woman that someone was coming in so she hastily wiped her tears away and brushed a small errant lock of bright golden red hair out of her eyes. Before the knock could even finish and repeat she was on her feet and running towards the door, hoping beyond hope that it was the person she missed the most, yet knowing within her heart that it could never be him. Once she threw the lock and opened the door, she was greeted by the smiling face of Misato Katsuragi.

The smile on the former Major's face, however, only lasted long enough to ascertain the fact that her former charge had been crying. Misato's face immediately fell, and she instantly knew what was wrong. It had been off an on since she had received a panicked call from the girl only a few days ago. Since then, the mauve-haired woman had done her best to try and check in with the girl whenever she could.

Apparently, it was one of those bad times again. "Oh, Asuka." Misato was within the younger woman's arms in a matter of seconds as the crystal blue orbs began leaking tears once again.

"I honestly thought it was him," Asuka told her former guardian as they contemplated the now decorated Christmas tree before her. "I thought that maybe he had come back, that he didn't leave me like I thought he had." 

Silently, Asuka's blue eyes found the ornament that she had painstakingly unwrapped hours before and watched its blinking brilliance with a frown upon her face. Misato watched the young woman before her, then cast a worried look out the window.

"I think you're jumping to conclusions," the elder woman finally said, turning her gaze back to Asuka, whom was still staring off towards a point on the christmas tree. "He's done this plenty of times before, mostly though, before you came here. I think you just need to give him time, he'll be back."

"Idiot," Asuka turned around and faced Misato, the blinking lights the two women hung up moments ago reflected offer her face in a psychedelic display as the younger woman regarded the elder. Asuka's eyes however were still wet with fresh tears and her cheeks stained with wet trails. "It's all his fault, too."

Misato smiled at the hint of Asuka's old attitude that came to the forefront once again. The five years since the final days of Nerv and the one-year she had been together with Shinji had done wonders to her temperament, but it still seemed out of place to see Asuka Langley Sohryu crying. Most often it came about when her old fears of being abandoned re-asserted themselves, though this was the first time Misato had heard of that Shinji and Asuka had had a large enough fight that the young man left.

"Do you remember anything about the argument?" Misato asked comfortingly, to which the German only shook her head in reply.

"I honestly don't remember," Asuka lied. In truth she knew exactly what she had said, and she knew what Shinji had replied with. The details were all burned into her mind as detailed as if a photograph had been taken of the moment he had closed the door. Still, her mind had trouble letting go of old habits and she would be damned if she admitted, no matter how scared she was of him leaving her, that this was completely her fault.

"It doesn't really matter anymore, though, what was said. The fact is that he left, and he's been gone for several days," Asuka said, casting her glare done to the floor when she couldn't hold Misato's piercing gaze anymore. "And I don't think he's coming back," she added quietly.

Misato sighed and placed her chin in her hands as she leaned her weight on the table she was sitting at. "Give him time, Asuka. Like you, he is very new to this relationship thing; he's not used to the fact that people have good days and bad days. He just needs to sort out his feelings, I think."

"But he **left** me!" Asuka yelled, throwing her gaze back to woman that had in all respects but blood become her mother. "He swore he would never leave me, and he just walked out that door without a second glance back. How am I **supposed** to take this?" More tears fell from the red head's face despite her willing them not to. Damn him, damn that little boy straight to hell for making her love him so much. This was precisely what she wanted to avoid when she decided that her heart was to be off limits.

"Asuka, please," Misato said tiredly. "Just give this time. Shinji loves you very much, I'm sure you know that, but he needs time to remind himself of that. Wherever he is, whatever he is doing, you can be sure that he will come back. Did you go out and look for him?"

"All the usual places I thought he would go if he was feeling like a heel. The memorial, the park, even the ruins of headquarters. Hell, I even went to that bar down the street just in case he felt like he needed to get himself drunk. Not a trace, no one had ever seen him. And you know us, Misato, it's not very often that any of us pilots can go anywhere without at least **someone** recognizing us."

Misato nodded, it was true, and she worried about that all the time. There was a huge amount of people who idolized them as heroes, but there were definitely factions that, while still small, made themselves very loudly known that they hated anything and everything to do with the former Nerv. To the scared woman in front of her, she added, "true, but Shinji has always been very adept at disappearing. Not even Section Two could find him if he really tried."

"That's what I'm worried about. What if someone else found him? What if he's lying some where hurt or even…" Asuka's heart constricted and her throat dried at the possibility she was alluding to. She didn't need to continue, Misato knew what she was referring to and only nodded with a pained look on her face.

"He can take care of himself, I think you made sure of that," Misato told the young woman with a sly smile on her face. In her estimation, the young woman was the best thing that had ever happened to Shinji, especially with his confidence level. He still was the same shy Shinji everyone from the former Nerv knew and loved, but now he was just a little bit sturdier, and just a bit less shy about speaking his mind. It wasn't much, mind you, but it was there if you knew the right area to look. A lot had happened in six years, after all.

Misato regarded the cup in her hands for moment, before she got up and startled the red head across from her. "I'm going to get more tea, do you want any?" There were some times, this one included that Misato missed the chilling familiarity of a cold beer between her hands, but she knew she had made a promise, and she couldn't break that. Not now, not ever.

Asuka merely shook her head. Nothing could shake the cold feeling in her stomach, nothing except for a certain someone shyly walking his cute butt through the front door.

"Do you honestly think he'll come back?" Asuka asked, once Misato had fetched a new cup of tea. The stark look of fear, only barely covered by the young woman's last tattering defenses, made the former Major's heartbreak. In a way, though, it was comforting to know that the former pilot of Evangelion Unit Two cared so much for her foster son. It at least upped her faith in them staying together a little bit more.

"I'm sure of it, Asuka," Misato said, summoning her best smile upon her face. "He just needs a little bit of time, just you wait. As soon as he's done finding himself or whatever he does by himself he'll come running back.

Asuka offered a weak smile to the woman in front her. Misato's faith was infectious in most circumstances, but Asuka did not feel like being hopeful right now. All she wanted right now, was a chance to apologize, to make things right again. 

Unconsciously, the young woman's gaze wandered to that ornament hanging near the top of the tree. The light from all the Christmas lights that hung in and around the tree refracted through the crystal and made it appear as if it was a real star, belonging to only her. If that was the case then, Asuka did something she never felt she would ever do. She wished upon that tiny point of light with all her might. She wished, hoped and prayed that Shinji Ikari, her Shinji Ikari would come back to her.

At that moment in time, a figure was walking far, far away. He had long since forgotten where he had been going, or where he had been in the past several days. The memories of cheap hotels and long train rides melded themselves into his mind like an alcoholic drink: just a warm haze that made him feel sick whenever he thought too much about it.

The young man, for that's what he appeared to be to the strangers looking upon the figure while passing him by, shivered and wrapped himself tighter into the think jacket he had brought with him. It wasn't supposed to be this cold, not at least in the eternal summer that was the aftermath of second impact. Though, of course, the 'experts' were always saying that it would steadily begin getting colder as the years progressed. The earth was slowly healing itself, and so here, in this far northern city, it was cold. There would be no snow though for at least another ten years and for that at least, the young man was grateful. He hated the cold.

Suddenly, the figure stopped and looked up, a warm red glow catching his vision for a moment. Filling the cold steel blue eyes was a neon sign of a bar. The young man smiled wistfully and brushed a strand of his thick brown hair away from his eyes. It was the type of bar he liked, the kind that one only managed to find in the inner cities, tucked away in a forgotten street corner. It's warm neon sign beckoning to all those with a past they wished to forget or dreams that were somehow placed by the wayside.

He felt like something to drink, the man realized suddenly. More like he needed something to drink, an additional mask that placed his memories further into a state of permanent fuzz. So with his mind made up, the young man walked to the entrance of the bar. Like an airstrip light used for beckoning planes this light beckoned its customers, and the young man found it hard to resist the soft, warm call of alcoholic bliss.

The bartender looked up from the counter and noted the entrance of the thin young man. He was unremarkable, as far as appearances went. The thick mop of brown hair that sat upon his head looked like it hadn't been combed in a few days, and the eyes were red rimmed, possibly from lack of sleep. The clothes were clean at least with a cut and lines that spoke of the comfortable middle class. All in all, a typical customer, the bartender noted, as the young man walked up to the edge of the bar and sat down.

"What can I get for you sir?" The bartender asked kindly. He was used to seeing such folks walk in at this time of year. They always seemed to want to forget the fact that they were alone. It was a pity, really, but business was business.

"A hot one, please." The young man responded quietly, then continued to stare back at the table, pretending to take an immense interest in the various stains that were set in the wood in front of him.

The bartender nodded, standard fair for a chilly night such as this. Silently he set a small cup in front of the customer, the proceeded to pull a small bottle that was placed on a carefully suspended wire platform inside a pot of hot water. Then he set the unmarked white bottle in front of the customer and watched as the man before him took the first sip, sighing in pleasure as the hot sake washed down his throat.

"You look like you could use some brainwashing," the bartender commented kindly, as he watched the customer set down yet another swig of the clear liquid.

The young man looked up for an instant, as if finally noticing the scenery for the first time. He regarded the quiet, well-lit tables that were swimming in a haze of smoke. The patrons that were all regarding him with a faint curiosity before going back to their respective drinks. Finally, his blue eyes met the warm brown ones of the bartender, and noted the kind smile on his old wrinkled face and the thick mop of black hair that was just beginning to go gray with age.

"You could say that," was all the young man replied with before going back to his drink. He really didn't feel like talking, especially to a complete stranger. The bartender, to his eternal credit, nodded sympathetically and took the sign that bar psychology was not needed for this man tonight, so he quietly occupied himself with a regular customer just down the bar table.

"Do you need another, Yamazaki?" He asked that man politely, trying to distract the regular from staring at the new customer. Unfortunately, the thick man ignored him completely, too intent on his rude stare towards the end of the bar.

"I know you," the man finally spoke, pointing a somewhat fat finger towards the younger man. "Yeah, I know you," he slurred again, this time standing up and walking on unsteady feet towards his neighbor.

"Now, 'zaki, he doesn't need any interruptions. I'm sure you don't know this man as I've never seen him before in this part of town," the bartender spoke worriedly, casting a glance at the new customer to see if he had yet to notice the intrusion. He hadn't.

"Come on and sit down so I can give you another beer. You're drinking Asahi, right?" The bartender noted with annoyance that his regular was completely ignoring him.

"You was all over the television a couple years back," Yamazaki sat heavily down beside the younger man and continued staring at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the brown-haired man spoke quietly, without even looking up from his sake. "I've never been on TV before."

"Yes you was! You was one of them pilots for those robots," the elder man continued, rudely beginning to tap his neighbor on the shoulder. 

"Come on Yamazaki, please leave this guy alone. Obviously you have him mistaken for someone else, now go back to your seat before I have to do something like call your wife." The bartender tried desperately to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand. The thick regular was one of those that were always a bit outspoken when he was drunk, and he never made any bones about not liking any of the former Nerv employees, especially the pilots.

The young man finally acknowledged the presence of the intruder and looked up. The cool gaze from his steel blue eyes momentarily took the thick man by surprise, but soon the alcohol took over and he shoved his face directly in front of the young man, letting his hot and heavy breath breathe directly onto his smooth shaven face.

The young man instantly drew back and coughed lightly, it had been a long time since he had been so close to the stench of beer, and he had lost all tolerances for the offensive smell.

"You think you is all high and mighty savin' the earth from 'monsters' and the like, but you fools never thought about what is was doin' to the families that lived under your feet. Lost my daughter to you fools, 'cause you were too slow and stupid to stop that angel. What was his name, the fifteenth, I think, big cow looking thing." Yamazaki's chubby hands reached out and grabbed a shirtful of the young man, a look of drunken angry countenance set on his face. "What was worse is we all worship you all as heroes! Heroes, I tellin' ya! All of you should have been killed right along with those that we normal people lost."

"Perhaps we should have," was all the young man said, and looked down towards the fist that was holding his body in check. "Would you kindly mind taking your fist off of me, if you are insulted by my presence then I will leave."

The brown-haired man reached into his pocket and took out a few wadded bills and some coins and plopped them on the counter.

Yamazaki merely laughed and then lifted the lighter boy off his feet. "Leave? Oh no, I don't think you should leave at all. In fact why don't we sit and stay for while, I got some words for you m'boy. Oh I got words for you indeed." Yamazaki smiled with all his drunken pleasure.

"Yamazaki, please!" the bartender came around and grabbed the man's forearm. "I called your wife, she'll be here in just a few minutes. Now sit down and enjoy the rest of your drink, before she gets here. I'll even give it to you for free."

"Ferget the drink, Masaki. I think that this boy owes me a drink or two. What do you say, pilot boy?"

"I'm afraid I have enough money left for me to buy my own," the young man said, no trace of apology in his voice at all.

Yamazaki blinked a few times, and let his unfocused eyes wander all over his opponent's face. Then he opened his great maw for a mouth and laughed.

"Pilot boy think he's funny!" Yamazaki continued to laugh, urging a few others to join with him. "Well, if you ain't got some cash, then I'm sure you can pay with other things."

"Yamazaki, don't make me call the cops," the bartender suddenly pulled in, leaning his strength into making the older drunk let go of the young man. "This is my business, and I will say what you do and do not do!"

"YAMAZAKI!" A shrill voice called out from the door, and made the old drunk stop dead in his tracks. Within moments, a thin female marched herself up to the man and grabbed his ear. "What did I tell you about coming down here and embarrassing me in front of Masaki and his people?"

"Aww, dear, I was just having fun with pilot boy here." Yamazaki tried lamely to placated his wife, and get her to release the iron grip she had on his ear. "I meant nothing by it."

"What a load of crap," the wife spit venomously. "Now did you settle up with Masaki? I won't have us owing him anything, you here me?"

"Yes dear," Yamazaki replied meekly and set a few bills on the counter. The fist that was holding his would be opponent now otherwise occupied trying to get his wife to let go of his ear.

"I'm sorry about that, here." Masaki walked up to the young man and handed him another bottle of hot sake. "It's on the house."

"Thank you," the young man quietly sat back down and poured himself a cupful of the hot liquid and downed in on gulp.

"Tenishi Masaki at your service, the bartender stuck out his hand to the stranger and smiled warmly, and invitation of friendship written on his face.

The young man looked at it for a second, then stared at the opened brown eyes that Masaki wore. Silently he extended his hand and took the bartender's within his own. "Shinji Ikari."

"So it was true then," Tenishi remarked wonderingly, and then smiled at the dark look that Shinji gave him. "I guess I just didn't recognize you, it's been so long."

"Not long enough, apparently," Shinji remarked dryly, and let a grimace wash across his face as his hand rubbed the area where Yamazaki's fist had been resting uncomfortably against his chest. Another swallow drained the sake down to half a bottle.

"I suppose so," Tenishi remarked. "But what brings you up here to Hokkaido? I was under the impression that you pilots were all around the new capitol and such, just in case."

Shinji regarded his newfound friend for a moment; a blank expression set upon his face. Something within the bartender's eyes compelled a stranger like him to settle in and share his story, and the young pilot found it very hard to resist the urge to talk just a little.

"Women trouble," Shinji said simply, then took another drink from his cup. He had to be careful though, he realized, he had never had much of a tolerance for alcohol and it seemed that the sake was already beginning to get to him. Perhaps a reason for his sudden urge to talk, as well.

Tenishi merely nodded his head in solemn acknowledgement of the age-old problem that had plagued man for countless milleniums. "That pretty red head?" He got his answer less than a second later with a confused glance from his customer and he merely chuckled.

"At the press conferences they broadcast after everything got back under order, it was written plain across your face that you were smitten every time you looked at her. I think at one point you were about to jump some reporter when they asked an impertinent question directed at her," Tenishi said, in answer to the unspoken question from Shinji.

Shinji looked down at his bottle and smiled sheepishly, a deluge of memories of the event that the bartender was speaking about assaulting his mind. "Was it that obvious, even then?"

Tenishi merely chuckled again and nodded his head.

"Asuka was very difficult to live with at that point in our lives. I honestly didn't think she wanted anything to do with me, and at that particular time, I was probably right. We'd only just gotten together a little more than year ago."

Tenishi whistled appreciatively. 

"That takes some guts to stay with a person that long. You must really care for her."

Shinji merely nodded, a lone tear streaked down his face. 

"I though so too, but a few days ago I was suddenly not so sure about that. After we got together it seemed like everything was going nice, and that she was finally beginning to mellow down. About last month, however, she started retreating back to her original personality, yelling at me for every little thing I did wrong. A few days ago, must have been the breaking point for her. I don't think I've ever heard her yell so loud or so long. I don't even remember what she said, but I couldn't stay anymore, I had to get away. I've been wandering ever since."

The old bartender frowned as he considered what his newfound friend just said. His eyes dulled for a minute as the smoke from the bar briefly clouded his vision. It was troubling, the amount of problems that came to him at this time of year. Some were hopeless, and nothing he could do or say would help out the poor soul who had gotten himself into that position. Shinji, it seemed, was different. The poor young man, he knew had already gone through so much in his life, it was rather unfair that a simple fight would end something in which the young man obviously wanted and cherished so much.

"I take it you didn't give her a chance to explain?" Tenishi asked, after a moment of silence spent thinking of just what to say.

Shinji shook his head. "Why? I don't think she would want me around anymore."

Tenishi sighed and closed his eyes, another wrinkle appearing on his forehead as he thought.

"I would hazard a guess that she didn't mean much of what she said. People say things all of the time in the heat of an argument," he finally added.

"No…no, Asuka always says what's on her mind. That's what I always loved about her. You knew where you stood when she was around. If she said something she meant it." Shinji sighed and let some of the penned up memories of the argument flood into his conscious thoughts. The anger, the yelling on both their parts. He didn't even remember what it was about; all he knew was that she had told him she was sorry she had ever gotten involved with him. That was the breaking point. It was a simple matter of just grabbing his jacket, walking out the door and closing it on her stunned face after that point. She didn't even bother coming after him, further evidence in his opinion, that she meant what she said.

"Tell, me, what else do you love about her?" Tenishi asked, his eyebrows moving up into a questioning glance. Shinji openly stared at him for a few moments, before going back to the last swallow of sake in his bottle.

After a few moments spent considering the older man's request, Shinji finally answered. "I love the way she looked at me, just when we started going out. The way her eyes would glance at me when she thought I wasn't looking, and the soft smile that played across her face when I said something funny, or did something nice for her. I loved the way she looked just after she woke up. Her hair was always rather wiry until she took a shower so it would be sticking out in all sorts of directions." 

Shinji smiled as the thought of a few times before they had moved into their own apartment together that she had come to spend the night with him. Nothing went on, or anything, but he used to wake himself up hours before she did just to watch her move. She always seemed so innocent in the morning, hugged tightly to his body as she was. Such a frail appearance for one that he knew was so strong on the outside. He remembered one wise saying that people reveal their true selves when they sleep, no masks to cover their feelings or worry of being thought bad of, just pure truth. To Shinji, those rare moments before dawn came were what cemented his love for her. The first time he had ever watched her sleep, that night so long ago when they were synchro training acted as a light switch in his mind. After that point, he knew he would never be the same ever again.

Tenishi wisely noted the soft smile and distant expression of his guest and smiled. He knew he was taking things in the right direction, now.

"You used the word 'looked' when you were talking about her. Towards the end, did she not look at you the same way?"

Shinji considered that statement and thought back to the last few months when he first noticed her retreating back into her shell.

"Yes, she did, but not as often as before," he finally answered and then looked up gratefully as another bottle of sake appeared in front of his hands, this time a larger one.

"I…I can't pay for that," Shinji replied nervously, but then closed his mouth when a second cup appeared.

"Sake shouldn't be enjoyed alone between two friends," Tenishi said solemnly before pouring himself a cup of the hot liquid and downed it one gulp. "Now, you were saying?"

Shinji regarded the bartended briefly with a look of wonder on his face, then added his own cup into the mix. Friends. Even he never saw this man again, tonight, on this night at least they were friends by the common bond of loneliness.

"I was saying," the young man measured out, "that she still looked at me that way. But it was somehow different. Every time she glanced my way or smiled it seemed forced as if she were trying to convince herself that it was necessary to carry on appearances."

The old bartender nodded sagely, for the entire world looking like an old trustworthy grandfather to Shinji.

"I take it by how long it took for you two to get together that you both have problems with dealing with other people?"

Shinji merely nodded and added with an ironic twist to his voice, "you can say that."

"Did you two see other people during this time?"

"No. I think we were both too messed up to see beyond our own problems until then. We both had our ways of dealing with the events that had just happened and at that time it was about all we could to keep sane, much less adding a relationship into the mix."

"Hmmm, I see." Tenishi rubbed his chin for a few minutes, feeling the texture of the rough stubble that was there. "I don't know your girlfriend that well, but if she's anything like you I think that maybe both of you are afraid of losing someone you love. I can't say as I blame you with all the things that had happened during those years. However, as your relationship progressed do you think that she saw that as a problem? Then decided to begin closing herself off as a precaution to prevent further pain?"

Shinji blinked.

"I...I don't know. We've both lost so many things in our lives. I guess she could still be afraid of someone leaving her. But why wouldn't she say something?"

"Perhaps your friend wasn't as honest as you might have thought?" Tenishi offered as he began to see comprehension dawn in his friend's eyes.

"But if that's the case, I left her. Like I said I wouldn't do," Shinji sighed and drained another cup full of sake. It was depressing to think of how selfish he had acted sometimes.

"Do not blame yourself, Shinji, you're the same as her remember and you've probably fostered your own doubts as well. The point is whether or not you're willing to let it go. Possibly lose someone that's very close to you or are you willing to stick with it and see where it takes you?"

Shinji let the words drift through his alcohol stained mind and somewhere along the journey they came together and clicked with stunning clarity.

"Do you…do you perhaps have a phone I could use?" Shinji asked, and was rewarded with the bright smile from the man across from him.

"Down the hall, on your left." Tenishi pointed down the restroom hallway and watched as Shinji got up and slowly made his way in that direction. When his friend was gone he sighed and poured himself two more cups of sake with a solemn ceremony, the last two apparently. The he silently waited for Shinji to return, but not before his memory recalled a statement that Shinji had said before, to Yamazaki. A mere moments deliberation was all he needed before Tenishi walked over to the counter cash drawer and slowly measured out a portion of the night's profits, then disappeared down the hallway Shinji had gopne down earlier. With everything set, the kindly bartender waited for the young pilot to return top his seat, the two cups of sake placed unerringly on either side of the bar table. Friends shouldn't drink alone on nights like this after all.

Asuka was woken suddenly by the sound of the phone ringing from the opposite room. Tiredly, the young German listened to the offensive object ring, hoping that the answering machine would get it. It was just too damn late for anyone to be calling.

"Hello, Asuka? I guess you're sleeping." 

Those words woke her up faster than a bucket of cold water ever could. Shinji! Asuka was out of bed and by the phone on a matter of a few seconds, completely ignoring her state of dress as well as the snoring lump on the couch that was Misato.

"Shinji! Where are you, is there anything wrong?" Came the first words out of her mouth as she picked up the receiver, she was greeted by silence for a few minutes.

"Shinji? Are you there?"

"I guess you're not sleeping," her boyfriend answered after a few more moments of silence.

"Idiot! Don't scare me like that, where are you? Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?" Tears feel from Asuka's eyes as she realized that he was safe. "Now look what you did, you made me cry!"

"I'm sorry," Shinji said, and the German could detect the honesty in that statement. Somehow she knew that that simple sentence ran much deeper than just an apology for scaring her by being silent.

"It's okay," she said after a moment spent rubbing a few more tears from her eyes. "I just didn't know where you were or if anything had happened, or even if you were ever coming back. I can't ever remember being so scared in my life." 

"I'm in Hokkaido, right now," Shinji answered simply. "But I don't have enough money to get back."

"Hokkaido? How in the world did you end up there?" Asuka asked in a hush whisper. She never dreamed he would have gone so far away.

"It's a long story, I guess. But I realized something today…I realized that we need to talk, about a lot of things." Shinji turned around and placed his hand on the hard wood of the phone's desk. Strangely, he encountered not wood, but the texture and feel of paper. Wordlessly, the young man looked down to where he had placed his hand and then removed it, revealing a small pile of bills with a note on top.

'One should never be alone this time of year.' Was all that the small inked note said, in neat writing. Shinji glanced down the hallway and then smiled softly. The voice of Asuka brought him back to the present.

"Shinji? Shinji are you still there? What do you mean by talking?"

I'll explain it when I get there," Shinji simply replied. "I'll be home by morning."

"Wait a minute, but I thought you had no money, Shinji! Wait!" But all the girl was answered with was the endless tone of the ringer. He had hung up on her!

"Asuka? What's going on?" The red head turned to see Misato staring at her, scratching her head and yawning hugely. "Who was on the phone?"

"Asuka glanced over to the ornament that she had hung earlier, and smiled as its refracted brilliance seemed to shine even brighter than it ever had before, despite the lack of light in the room.

"It was Shinji," she replied quietly, a soft smile on her lips and tears running unchecked down her cheeks. "He's coming home."

****

End

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Author's Endnotes: Well, is everyone still alive, or has the sugar rush killed you yet? Yeah I know this story probably is way overdone in the waff department, and I know it's a little late for being a christmas fic. I had this thing sitting around for a while on my computer, since November in fact. I had **hoped** to have this done in time for Ryoma's Christmas contest, but vacation conspired against me and I only now had the time to spare to look over this work and correct the glaring mistakes. I hope it was a good read for all involved.

Next, I'd like to add that this writing is dedicated to a few people and things. First of all, bonus points for anyone who can recognize the song that inspired this work, not too hard considering the titles are the same. ^_^ Secondly, this ficcy is dedicated to bartenders. Not the kind in the fancy upscale bar that seems to be pervasive these days, but the bartenders that own the bars in which they serve. The kind that have been around forever, and lastly, the kind who had accumulated such knowledge of the human spirit at its lowest point that they should be awarded an honorary psychology PhD. The ones who seem to know exactly what to say in order to give your stubborn butt a swift kick in the right direction, and who never leave a lonely customer, lonely. To all those kinds of bartenders, thanks ^_^.

Lastly, I know that this work and the characters in it will be out of character. I tried hard to preserve the essence of them in my writings, and I thought that I came up with a good amount of time to reasonably account for the small changes I portrayed them with. This fic is just a brief glimpse of time in a possible future, I hope there will be no serious complaints, but if there are, ::shrugs:: what can I do but try harder the next time. Until that time, though, I hope everyone had a great holiday season and we're not all **too** disappointed in going back to school. We'll see you in my next fic!


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